Not All Who Wander
by Hope Shalott
Summary: /We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey/ Prequel to Scream Ferocity, exploring what happened after Leah left and where she ended up.
1. Chapter One: Cold Days And Long Nights

**Disclaimer:** All recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I am not making a profit off this story.

**A/N: **This story is a prequel to Scream Ferocity. It explores the events that happened after Leah finally snaps and leaves.

* * *

_"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey." Kenji Miyazawa _

**Chapter One**: Cold Days and Long Nights

A slow, cold drizzle of rain wakes her from a dream. She opens one eye, preparing for the burst of daylight as it hits her retina. Her first vision is of the sky, dark and dreary as usual, clouded with the rain that has already seeped through her clothes and soaked her down to skin. Newspaper and boxes rustle around her. She sniffs the air. Noodles, fresh from the packet, first pot of the day. Time to move on before the cops come.

She makes it over the chain wire fence two seconds before three men in uniform appear. She heard their boots hit dirt before she saw them. They are merciless in their hunt for trespassers---kicking boxes, rattling bins. One catches her eye as she backs away from the fence. Within a second he has disregarded her. She knows he is thinking the same thing they all do. She is scum and nothing else.

Sometimes, she thinks they might be right.

A man grabs her arm. His hair is stringy and open sores cover his scalp. "That is my apple," he mutters in broken Cantonese. His features are Asian but she knows that means nothing. This is the kind of place that attracts the hopeless and the desperate from all over over the world.

"Fuck off," she hisses but she tosses him the rotten apple anyway. It will taste better on a human tongue and she has a lot more skill than he does when it comes to finding breakfast.

She runs for a little while longer, putting as much distance as she can between her and the cops and when it feels she has run far enough, she slows into a walk. The air in Shanghai tastes fresh and bitter. The density of the land is palatable and even amidst the desperation and struggle that has become her life, she manages to find beauty in the sprawling emptiness that surrounds her. A little further and she comes to the river that she uses every morning to bathe. It never quite gets rid of the dirt---or the smell, but even she has her standards.

She scrubs her skin with a handful of evergreen shrub leaves. It's a trick she's learned from one of the nameless few whose faces barely linger in her memory. She chooses to forget because it's easier that way.

After she is done washing, she tips her head back and sniffs the heavy air. It doesn't quite reach her gut as it usually does---not surprising, she's already been there for three months after all-- and she knows that it is time to move on.

* * *

Her journey into town is short and it only takes her ten minutes to steal enough money to pay her fare out of here. She doesn't allow herself to feel guilty; she's only trying to survive. She will leave by boat---the first one heading out—for two reasons. The first being that she doesn't fancy the long trip into the city, and planes are easier to track. Whether anyone even cares enough to look is left to guessing.

She eyes a fishing boat and scans the huddle of men for the Captain. He meets her eye and she smiles at him. She moves slowly towards him, affecting an air of shyness to mask her nervousness. She's beginning to get antsy and would like to get out of there as quick as she can.

"Hi, I'm in a bit of a jam. I lost my bag with my passport in and they won't let me travel out of here. Could you help me?"

He continues to smile at her and she knows he hasn't understood a word she's just said. She tries again applying her limited knowledge of Cantonese but gets only slightly more of a reaction. After a good ten minutes and numerous hand gestures, she manages to strike a deal. He'll get her as far as Hong Kong but at a cost. She accepts. It isn't the first long night she's spent pretending that she is somewhere other than underneath a sweating, hulk of a man but maybe it won't be so bad this time. This Captain is pretty cute.

"Thank you," she says, still sweet. She doesn't want to test the waters until she's safely on that boat and far away from shore.

She is about to board when out of the corner of her eye, she sees a group of guards watching her. Their surrounding pattern is familiar, pulled from the hunting tactics in her head. They are closing her in. She doesn't give them a chance to get any closer---she's heard the stories of what goes on in prisons here. She takes off in a run, laughing because she knows they can't catch her. It is only when she stops that she realises she really is screwed.

She has a good reason for wanting to get out of this shithole. The marketplace mutterings of bodies found savaged are becoming more and more frequent. There's enough there for her to recognise the signs. _Leeches_. And by the bodycount racked up in this month alone, she's guessing more than one. She can't take the risk that they will catch wind of her, not without a pack to back her up.

She stands and surveys her surroundings. There's a faint scent of wild dog leading deep into the forest. She wonders if that might be considered cannabilism for a moment and decides not. She's something else entirely.

Following the trail on foot seems to be her best bet, at least until she can determine that the forest is empty. The locals have more sense than to wander around out here but tourists have often proven to be a little stupider. It wouldn't be the first time she's had to pretend she was some stark raving nudist but better for them to believe she's a nutjob than arousing their suspicions.

A sickening smells floods her nostrils and for a moment, she panics. Very few things turn her stomach quicker than the stink of leech but her brain quickly squashes that possibility. It's not sweet enough to be leech though there is still a faint undernote of vampire stink. This smell is raw----rotting. She spots the mangled mass of hair, a white foot poking out from underneath the dirt. It's a bad cover up....more than likely done by someone who knows that this area is off limits to most. Probably hoping that if someone did come across the body, they'd blame it on the dogs.

"Damn bloodsuckers," she mutters to herself.

She inhales, trying to pick up the lingering scent of the vampires who fed here. Not that she has any plans to follow them. She may be desperate and bitter but she's not suicidal, not yet anyway. If she can track the scent, she'll know which way they headed out and then she can start running in the opposite direction.

For a moment, she just stands and looks at the body before her. The smart move would be to find some dry wood and burn the evidence of the leeches existence, and by default, her own... but this rotting mess was once a human being. Even the dead deserve some dignity and whatever family she has left behind deserve their closure.

It's a decision she never gets to make.

Her senses flare, picking up a new scent. A human scent, and something sharp and metallic. She can hear muttering, too low and too distant for her to make out what is being said. The sound moves towards her quicker than she feels comfortable. There's no pacing. The movements seem urgent and focused. She kneels low and disappears into the surrounding foliage while she assesses the situation. There's something about it that is making her panic and the feeling is too new for her to stake her life on it.

She decides to run.

She phases, picks the direction furthest away from the incoming echo and runs, feet pounding dirt, flinging up mud and leaves in her desperation to get away. Something in her gut tells her to keep running and never look back and right now, she's more than happy to obey. She skids to a stop as something whizzes past her head. Bullets?

She veers left where there is more coverage and hurtles through shrubs and flora. If she's right and they are human then they shouldn't be able to follow. Brambles and thorns catch on her fur and she thrashes from side to side to try and untangle herself. She's panicking even though she knows it's dangerous to do so.

It doesn't take long to break free but when she does, she finds herself glaring at the barrel of a gun. The man holding it is masked and more like him surround her at the exits. She picks the most unpredictable move and lunges at the one with the gun. He manages to get a shot off and she feels a sharp, stinging pain hit the back of her neck but she shakes it off and snaps at him again. She catches cloth between her teeth before a wave of dizziness overwhelms her and she feels her jaw slacken. Another man breaks rank and dashes forward to help his team mate. His actions give her an exit and she breaks off in a run again, collapsing as another hit takes her legs out from underneath her. She lays on the ground panting, voices echoing above her head.

Her tongue goes numb as something strong, herbal in taste, floods her mouth. She can't move. Whatever they did to her has turned her limbs to jelly. She manages to move her eyes and take note of the dart sticking out of her hind leg. Her vision flickers and fades. The last thing she thinks is that it's a real bad day to die.


	2. Chapter 2: Brave New World

**Disclaimer: **All recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I am not making a profit off this story.

* * *

_"The meaning of good or bad, or better or worse, is simply helping or hurting"- Ralph Waldo Emmerson. _

**Chapter Two:** Brave New World

"What are you wearing?"

Sam's face is blurred by the rain and Leah is confused. It's like she's looking at him from inside a waterfall and she doesn't really understand why he's here in the first place. He gives her a real smile and she's looking at her Sam again. She wants to cry but she's stuck.

"Lee Lee? Are you awake?"

She nods, then wonders if she's just a blur to him too. "Why are you here?" she asks. Her voice is crackly and raw and she can barely feel her tongue.

He raises an eyebrow in the same way that Sam always did but doesn't do anymore. His grin is all wide and blurry. "What are you talking about, Lee? Are you okay?" His tone has shifted, concern in every note. Leah's head is beginning to hurt. None of this makes sense.

"I don't know," she answers honestly. "I don't know what's happening."

Sam steps through the rain, water dripping from his handsome face and Leah can see the truth. It wasn't real, none of it was. His expression is passive and controlled. His wicked grin is gone. This isn't her Sam.....this is Emily's Sam. He grabs her wrist but she barely feels his grip. His fingers are cold, almost leech temperature. "What are you wearing?" he asks again. "Emily needs to know."

She tries to pull away from him but he's too strong. Everything is beginning to blur again, the world around her is spinning. Sam's doesn't seem to notice how dazed she is, he only tightens his grip. "There are arrangements to be made. Everything has to be perfect. What are you wearing?"

His voice is getting louder, more urgent and the sound vibrates through Leah's head until it feels like someone is holding it in a vice grip. Sam is still talking, talking nonsense now, that she can barely hear but one word makes it in. One word spins around in her mind. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily._ Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emi--_

Leah wakes with a start. A burst of sunlight hits the back of her eyes and she squints against it. Nausea swirls in her stomach and she lays her head back down. Her face rests against cool, hard stone and she closes her eyes and swallows the lump in her throat as she tries to pull herself together long enough to figure out where she is.

"Shit," she mutters as she manages to pull herself up, head still throbbing, and looks around. She's back in human form, a scratchy blanket thrown over her. Morning air hits her skin where she's let it drop. She breathes it in, hoping that it may somehow rejuvinate her. She feels like a bag of shit and it's been a while since she felt this weak. Physically, at least.

The room she's in is open, giving way to a breathtaking view of the mountains. The décor is colourful and intricate, if a little worn. Only large, thick pillars make a room out of it but otherwise, she is at the mercy of the elements. The nausea has settled slightly and she akwardly pulls herself to her feet, not even bothering to wrap the blanket around her.

"How long have I been out?" she asks, a grin on her face. She didn't hear him coming but at least her sense of smell is still working..

Her voyeur steps through the open door and averts his gaze. "An hour. We left a blanket for this very purpose," he says, gesturing to her naked form, eyes still on the dragon sculpture beside him. She picks the blanket up and wraps it around her. She doesn't know enough about these guys to push her luck and what she does know, she doesn't like. "What did you do to me?" She asks.

The man turns his gaze towards her. He's younger than she thought. Although, he still has a good many years on her. His head is shaved bare and his brown eyes are regarding her with both curiosity and wariness. "Our apologies,"he says in stilted English. "At first, we thought you were one of the dead, a blood drinker."

"At first?" she asks, injecting just enough malice into her voice that he knows she's wants answers. She hides her surprise that he appears to be in on the big secret.

He nods. "Yes, but after we realised our mistake, we had to know that you weren't dangerous. We had to make certain of what you were."

"And what is that?"

His solemn expression gives way to a smile. "A protector."

When she doesn't answer, he continues. "Blood drinkers have been coming to our town for centuries. There was a time when they would wipe out whole villages. Over the years, we developed ways of fighting them and the few who still came here soon learned of their mistake. Our reputation is our greatest weapon but now the dead ones are coming more often, in bigger numbers, taking more of our people. No one in the village is safe. They hold no regard for human life---taking men, women....children."

She snorts and the young man looks surprised. She rolls her eyes at his questioning gaze. "Look, I left that life behind a while ago. If you want someone to protect your village or whatever, you're gonna have to look elsewhere. I'm done with all that shit."

He stares at her thoughtfully for a moment then bows his head. She turns her back on him as he leaves. He pauses by the door. "None of us can change who we are. We can deny our spirit as much as we want but nothing will change." Then he is gone.

Great, she thinks to herself. She moved halfway across the world to escape the spirit and destiny lectures and ends up in this fucking place. The only thing she can't deny is that every waking day brings new evidence that the world really is out to fuck her.

She sits and thinks for a while but it does no good. Each and every memory hurts. Memories of Sam and Emily and Seth. Even memories of her father. The problem is that they're all tied together. When she thinks of one, she thinks of them all. By nightfall, she's made her decision. She'll go offer these monks her gratitude, as is only fair and proper---and much more than they deserve considering they shot her ass up, then she'll be on her way. She looks out at the mountains and winces. That's going to be some rough fucking hike.

The temple isn't really that big but the high ceilings lend a certain granduer to it that it otherwise wouldn't have. She can't help but stare in wonder as she makes her way through the corridors. The etchings and murals that decorate almost every blank space are works of sheer power and beauty. She tries to make sense of the stories they tell but just when she thinks she's got the hang of it, something random is thrown in. Just like real life.

"Hello?" she calls but no one answers.

She pauses as she hears voices and the clatter of pots and pans. Her stomach grumbles softly but she ignores it and focuses on what is being said. Her Cantonese isn't that good and they speak too quickly for her to pick up all the words but after playing in over in her head a few times, she gets the basic gist of it.

"There is nothing in the legends that mention a woman." The voice is young, and she places it as the voice of a teenager. "There are protectors scattered across the world and none of them are women. None of their histories show that any have ever been women."

The answer is a laugh. Leah can hear the slurp of soup being ladelled into a bowl. "History and legend were only possibilites themselves once. What do you think?"

The next voice is familiar, her intruder's voice. "She is certainly a protector.....though she has little desire to fulfil her duty. By my judgement, I'd say she's a young one. Without any idea or control of her power. But regardless, she is unwilling to stay with us."

An old sigh, a weary sigh. One that reminds her of her father's complaints about getting old. Longing hits her deep in her stomach as the old man speaks again. "Well, we will just have to find another way."

It's so painfully familiar and she has to bite her lip against the tears. That was her father's way of doing things. Always with optimism however weary that hope was. Nothing was ever impossible, nothing was ever over. Not if you didn't want it to be. She thinks about what he would have said....what he did say one night when even his sense of duty and acceptance were no match for her heartbroken sobbing. "It's okay to be sad, Leah. Just make sure that you're sad on your own terms. Find a way to get over it, not for Sam or Emily....but for yourself."

Maybe she's been going about this all wrong. Denying her destiny while she should be embracing it....on her own terms of course. None of this imprinting crap. No. She's going to be stronger than that. None of the others ever had much sense anyway. They're too busy being in love and protecting their leech friends that they don't notice the destruction around them. They sit in their contentment, waiting for their enemies to come to them.

If they had any sense, they'd realise that the only way to make any real difference, is to go after them first.

* * *

It is a different man who comes to find her. He doesn't say anything, he simply stand and waits. She wonders how anything ever gets done around here. Maybe they're all telepathic, like Fangface Cullen.

"What do you want me to do?" she asks, injecting a sigh into her voice because she doesn't want them to think she has given in easily.

"Eat," he says and beckons to the door. She raises an eyebrow. "That's it?"

He nods and says, "Yes, for now."

Leah is having second thoughts already but she lets him guide her from the room and down to the kitchen. There, they shovel rice and soup and vegetables down her throat until she's close to bursting, and considering her appetite and the fact that she hasn't eaten a proper meal for a few months at least, that is no easy feat. There's no converstation around the table and all of them seem wary and worried around her.

She feels more lost than ever.


	3. Chapter 3: Stop and Smell the Roses

**Chapter Three: Stop And Smell The Roses**

* * *

She wakes early next morning and feels no benefits of her pitiful rest. Perhaps it's the new surroundings, or the fact that her life sucks, but she is finding it harder to get to sleep and even harder to stay there.

She refuses the room allocated to her by the monks and settles where she first woke. The open air refreshes her and makes her feel connected. Besides, after a good few months of sleeping rough, she is almost used to it. After eating, she makes her way to the gardens, stocked full of exotic flowers and plants. As beautiful as it all is, the scent is overpowering and hurts her nose.

"I thought you guys were supposed to live a life free of luxury or whatever?" she asks a boy tending a pot of herbs. He smiles at her, almost self deprecating.

"They were here when we bought the place." He replies, sarcastically, though not unkindly. His English is better than most and the accent he speaks it in (American, she guesses) is not as stilted. She wonders where he learned it from and whether they have a TV in this place. Or even electricity.

He doesn't look surprised to see her there, although they haven't met before, and it is no great shock to her. This seems like the kind of place where news travels fast. Out of the corner of her eye, she picks up a flicker of movement, just a little behind the trees. The boy follows her as she moves to investigate.

A man, broad shouldered and muscled, moves quickly and gracefully. His legs remain firmly on the ground while his arms draw patterns in the air. She'd guess it was Tai Chi, though it looks nothing like what you might see at Granny hour in Forks park. She can hear each deep breath as he inhales right down to the moment when it settles in his lungs ready to be expelled again.

"What is he doing?" she asks the boy.

"Moving," he replies simply. She wonders if he's being sarcastic for a moment but his face is open and friendly.

"Yeah, but what is it called?"

His expression shifts to one of confusion as he opens and closes his mouth in search of an answer. After a few seconds of consideration, he looks her dead in the eye. "Moving," he says again, firmly as though the change in tone may help her understand better. Then he takes her arms and stands behind her, drawing circles in the air with her limbs. He tells her to breathe and focus but not to think. It takes her a few moments to work through the contradiction.

She can feel the air as it smooths over her, slipping between her fingers. She can feel it so strongly that she's sure she could push away, beat it down. It makes her feel alive-powerful and then he drops her arms and smiles at her, raising an eyebrow in the hope that she might now understand.

She does...a little.

**xxx**

For the next few days, she does nothing but eat and move. She still can't sleep. Moving is good because no thinking means no thinking of Sam and Emily and death and her father. The first few times are spent hiding in the gardens, trying to pick up the routines as one monk or another practises. They quickly discover her and before long, she's moving beside them, becoming better and better. Becoming free.

She comes to realise just how restrictive her life was back when bare essentials were mascara and her Ipod. Now, she's living off her own back, having to find ways to not only survive but to live and she feels so much more fulfiled and stronger than she ever did. There's still something missing, she doesn't know what. Maybe it's Sam, maybe it's her father...but it's there. She can feel it gnawing away at her stomach, trying to burst through like that creepy Loch Ness kid. Except she's quite sure that this won't have a happy ending so she swallows it down and simply moves.

**xxx**

It takes a few months before the monks will let her go outside the walls. During that time, she trains and she works on rebuilding herself from the ground up. The hardest part is the meditations. Leah has never been one for sitting still.

"How much longer do I have to do this, Wu?" she asks, addressing the first man she met. He smiles and shakes his head. He never seems to tire of mocking her lack of patience though she doesn't mind it. What she's getting in return more than makes up for it.

"Until you succeed."

She snorts, a little irritated now. "Yeah, succeed in doing the impossible."

"It's not impossible. You just have to focus."

There it is, the magic word again. Just focus and everything will be alright. They're a nice bunch but she knows they're wasting their time with this one. Phasing as it goes is pretty simple. From human to wolf in the blink of an eye -no pain, no mess-unless you count the shredded clothes. Wu wants her to take it slow, to pull back. Selective phasing. Even if she could do it, she can imagine it to be pretty painful.

With a sigh, she closes her eyes and tunes her mind to silence. Taking deep breaths in and deep breaths out, she focuses on her hands, feels the wind play across her skin. She flexes them and the crack of her knuckles reverberates through her spine. Finding that switch, she pulls on it just enough to kick her phase off and then pulls back. The last seventy two times she's done this has ended with her phasing into the flowerbeds. Yuen still hasn't forgiven her for 'murdering' his orchids. This time however, it seems to take.

Her skin tingles and she can feel it pulling and twisting. Claws rip through the tips of her fingers sending sharp, stinging pain through her arms. She bites her lip against it. This is just the start and she's quite sure that it will only get worse. Opening her eyes slowly, she dares a glance at her deformed hand. It is grotesque, as she expected but the sight sends a surge of pride through her. Soft downy fur glitters on the surface as it spikes through her skin, creeping up her arm. She can feel every second of it like the prick of a needle. It's the worst pain she's probably ever felt but she's come this far.

In one more moment, her control snaps and she completes the phase, fur bursting our of every pore. She's learned to adapt quickly to the little things that make the change so disorientating, like viewing the world from the sides of your head for one thing.

Wu pats her on the head and she feels a stab of gratitude for the gesture. He's less wary around her than the others but not enough that reaching out to her doesn't require some effort. Leah lowers her nose to the ground and snuffles the flowers. Most are hanging dead, snapped at the neck. She gives a mental eye-roll. The last thing she needs in this place is another lecture.

At least she's learned something today.

**xxx**

There's a little spring in the gardens that she uses to bathe. Her body heat warms the water slightly and she lays her head against the bank and relaxes. There's nothing quite like this, breathing in the flowers around you as fresh water laps at your skin.

"Mmm," she mutters, ears automatically tuning into the noises around her. Noises that she never really paid attention to in her human form. If the monks have taught her anything, it's that there is no in-between. She is the weapon, every last part of her from human to wolf. Both sides have to be strong and conditioned if she wants to survive. It's a tiring though and entirely unfair but who gives a shit? Nobody else in this world so she can't too. She has to do more than her best to become stronger. Tough isn't good enough, she needs to be unstoppable.

**xxx**

The next few months are hard. The monks won't even let her leave the temple until they are sure she can take care of herself. Every waking hour is spent training and meditating-or trying to at least. They teach her things outside of Quileute legend, things that she never even would have considered possible if she had any inclination to consider them at all.

Leah drinks it all in, never complaining. Instead, she delights in the change. She can feel a new sense of power working through her entire being. The isolation, the loneliness, even the wariness that the monks still regard her with doesn't matter. Nothing compares to the feeling of being stripped down and re-created. A stronger, better, more enlightened version of herself. Her longing for Sam turns to anger. Her sadness at Emily's betrayal turns to rage. Her respect for her pack, for her family, even for her tribe turns to pity for their weakness and blind acceptance of the things that keep them inferior. Her feelings of self hatred are replaced by a new-found sense of self respect.

Only by lifting the binds of her bloodline has she gained some clarity. When they feel she has learned enough, they set her loose.

**xxx**


	4. Chap 4: Let's Get This Show On The Road

**Chapter Four: Let's Get This Show On The Road**

* * *

"Will you eat before you go?"

Leah doesn't turn to the noise but she shakes her head. She has little appetite, not for food anyway. There is a thread of tension in the room. Wu is worried; possibly for her but more likely for what will happen to them if she fails.

"I'll be back in time for breakfast," she says, giving him a wan smile. She shouldn't be complacent but the fire in the gut tells her it's true. It's not her time to die tonight, that honour belongs to someone else.

"Remember our lessons," Wu says, his voice soft but underneath it she can just make out a slight begging tone. Please don't die on us, it's saying. She feels sure that is one request that will be granted tonight.

Wu opens his mouth to say something else but decides against it. With one last nod, he backs out of the room, leaving Leah to think about her mission, about her destiny. She doesn't know why they're so antsy. This is what she stayed for, what they asked her to do. This is in her blood.

Killing bloodsuckers is what she does and now, thanks to them, she's much more better equipped to do so. She turns her head back, hair blowing softly around her face. From her perch, she can see the villages sprawled out at the bottom of the mountains. Two women have died in the last three days, blood drained from their bodies, left to rot by a leech who doesn't know any better or who doesn't think anyone will care.

Well, she cares and before the night is over, he'll learn his lesson.

**xxx**

The vampire goes crazy trying to place the scent. It's not so much the smell that sends him into a panic but that he doesn't know what kind of creature it belongs to. Leah likes to believe that she smells like a predator to him but even if he doesn't make that connection now, he soon will when she's tearing the marble flesh from his bones.

She stalks him down the side street, in human form, until he realises that he's being tracked and breaks into a sprint. Leah doesn't even bother running after him. She's already got his scent. Even if he looks around, suspicion won't fall on her. Never in his wildest dreams would he imagine that the pretty girl across the street is going to be the death of him. But that's the problem with these leeches. They've got no imagination.

He stops in an alley. Leah glances up from the wall where she is perched, behind a stack of crates, to see clothes hanging from railings. She reconsiders her tactics. There's no way she can phase here. The risk that someone might see her from the window is too high, but that's okay. She's learned ways around that.

"I know you're there," the leech spits, his English mangled by a thick European accent that Leah can't exactly place. "Come out!" he hisses. Leah smiles at the note of fear underneath the bravado. He's going to play it brave and cocky, and that makes it worth her while.

She drops down from the wall and walks slowly towards him, hips swinging. It seems out of place but she notes with some happiness the feel of her hair resting on her shoulders. It's always been her pride and joy and it physically hurt when she had to cut it. Now, she's doing things on her own terms.

The leech looks confused, his nose wrinkles as he instinctively backs away from the smell. He grins, more than a hint of relief in his eyes, as he takes in the girl in front of him. Leah can almost see herself through his eyes. Young, soft and small. Smaller than him anyway. She's...appetizing and he thinks this is going to be a cakewalk. She wait until after it's done to laugh about that.

"Bitch," he spits, still leering at her. "I've eaten quite a few homeless people in my time but you smell worse than any of them. But hey," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm hungry...and beggars can't be choosers."

Leah smiles and it throws him off balance a little. His look is questioning-questioning her sanity if anything-and he doesn't move as she walks closer. She can feel the pulsing in her gums with each step, her straight white teeth shift into points. They break through the skin on her bottom lip but she keeps her mouth closed. No way she's gonna reveal her ace...not just yet.

She moves her hands behind her back and looks up at him-all coy and inviting. Her fingertips twist painfully, sharp claws breaking through skin. The tendons in her arms tremble and she inhales slowly against the searing pain. There's a price to pay for doing it this way but it's almost worth it to see the look on the leech's face when he gets his ass torn up by a human.

"Oh, I understand now," the leech says, sounding more than a little dazed. "You want to play games." He moves forward, his expression threatening. "Except, I'm a man who always wins and your odds don't look too good."

He pounces, coming at her like a bullet. She waits until the very last moment before she dodges his attack and spins around him. Her mouth finds the back of his neck, long canines tearing at his flesh before he can even raise a hand to her. She pulls him back into the shadows, her deformed jaw still clasped around his neck and she works at the skin, ripping away at the harder top layer until it gives way to the softer flesh underneath. He fights of course but it does him no good. Every move he makes works against him, sending her teeth deeper into his neck.

"How do you like those odds?" she whispers, her voice thick and low. Then she puts one foot in the small of his back, grabs his hair and pulls. His head comes off with a sharp, tearing sound, eyes still blinking as she lets it fall to the ground. She glances up at the windows. Anyone watching would think they'd just witnessed a heavy make out session or at the worst, a murder but that's easily overlooked in this part of town.

"Bitch," she growls as she kicks at the flailing vampire corpse. She looks around for something to restrain his arms and then kicks him down again as his headless body tries to scramble to his feet. He goes over easy, weakened by the loss of his most vital body part. Leah watches him as she bends a steel bar over her knee, then she grabs his wrists together and loops it over his arms. It won't hold forever but it'll last longer now that his strength is near depleted.

Now she just has to figure out how she's going to get this motherfucker out of here.

**xxx**

The monks stare wide eyed as she drags the leech into the temple, but whatever. She's in no mood for hugs and kisses. To avoid suspicion and actually make it up the mountain, she had to abandon the stolen car she used to get him out of town and drag at least 500 pounds of moving stone up the steepest mountain she's ever seen.

She's not particularly happy right now. She dumps the leech at their feet and heads off towards her room. She's done her part. They can take care of the rest.

**xxx**

Leah doesn't sleep well that night. She's haunted by memories. The initial excitement of her success tonight quickly gives way to anger as she remembers how her pack treated her. All of them equating her lack of brawn and muscle to innate weakness. She remembers how she was never allowed to train with Jasper, how angry everybody had been when she tried to do her duty and take down a leech only for Jacob to have to jump in. What a great fucking tragedy it was. The honorable Jacob Black having to rescue the bitch nobody gave a shit about. She never mentioned that it was her job to put her life on the line trying to protect humans from leeches. That would have made way too much sense for their tiny brains. She took great pains not to even think about the fact that they were supposed to be a collective unit-and protecting each other was part and parcel.

No, she was just a fucking woman who stepped out of line and tried to do the man's work and her cost was a label as cocky and reckless while Jacob took home the prize of being strong and brave for doing the exact same thing-their duty.

Hell, she could go back there right now-wiser and stronger than all of them and Sam would still pit her against the most helpless leech, taking orders from a child who was at least four wolves down from her in the timeline of phasing. If it had ever been a matter of strength and wisdom, she'd have made fucking Alpha by now but it never was. It was all about whose balls were bigger and so she was out of the game before she even began to play.

She thought she had found her place at Jacob's side, that she earned her role as Beta. Despite her sneaking suspicion that he'd only offered her the job to placate her, she'd convinced herself that she was just being paranoid-that he must have really believed she was the best option for his second. She held her palms out and let him heap all the shit and responsibility that he didn't want to deal with right onto her...only for him to decide that it wasn't enough. All her hard work wasn't enough and suddenly she found herself right back where she began. Under Sam's thumb and in his mind.

"Fucking bastards," she mutters to herself, turning over in an attempt to clear her mind and get some sleep. The night air was fresh and dewy, blowing in from her open window. She tries one of the meditation techniques the monks had taught her. Imagined the mist seeping into her brain, pulling her into the world of dreams-nature's best sedative-but it did no good. She was still far too wired and to make things worse, the lack of sleep was beginning to get to her.

This had been her third night of restlessness and even she had a breaking point.

**xxx**


End file.
